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The cold river licks our bodies and we pretend we don’t exist anymore, dissolve in the water, merge with the murk and the silt and the slowly moving currents, wishing for the trees, and the air, and the shimmer to never end.
Alex Tiu
Mario López-Goicoechea
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That was sublime. Thanks for sharing.
London-based, Cuban writer. Author of “Cuban, Immigrant, and Londoner” https://uk.bookshop.org/a/6886/9781528994293 https://acubaninlondon.medium.com/membership
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